


30 days

by KaelsMiscellany



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 30 day challenge fic, AU, Babies, Dragon!Parrish, F/M, Future Fic, Kids, M/M, Multi, Silly, because I have no self control, h/c, jumps around it's own timeline frequently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-21
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:27:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 15,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2172744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaelsMiscellany/pseuds/KaelsMiscellany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 30 day OTP challenge, as applied to my new favorite OT3: Lydia/Jordan/Peter.</p><p>Day 30- Doing Something Hot</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1 - Holding Hands

Shivers wrack Jordan’s body as he lies curled up on his bed. He’s sick, but nobody knows what’s wrong with him. The bed dips and he smells flowers and grave dust, Lydia. He feels her shift closer to him, taking his hands in her own, running her thumbs over the errant patches of scales that dot them.

When he’d first saw them he’d asked if he was turning into a kanima, everyone had shared a look as if now they were wondering too, but Lydia had just laughed and shook her head. “No Jordan, definitely not.” She’d ran a thumb over the then only patch of scales, a shiver racing through him at the sensation. “If only by the scales alone. Kanima’s more like a snake or an alligator, these are more lizard.” It shouldn’t have been a comfort, but it was.

A faint thud brings him back to the present, in the next room he can hear Peter rifling through another old bestiary, trying to see what he can find. It’s a surprise to Jordan that he’s been more diligent in his research than most, because Peter’s so…indecipherable, and because according to everyone he doesn’t do something without expecting anything in return.

The only person who doesn’t seem worried about it is Lydia, a twitch of a smile crossing her face whenever someone mentions it. Which returns his focus to the girl curled up around his back, the warmth of her just barely making a dent in the chill that’s filled him. That’s really what’s got him, and everyone else, worried; the fact that he can’t seem to get warm.

He has memories of his squad mates complaining about how the heat never seemed to bother him, it’d been true though; while most dreaded days when it passed a 100, Jordan had almost loved them.

The door opens and Jordan manages to turn his head enough to see Peter in the doorway, his eyes seeming to glow even though he clearly wasn’t…flaring, wolfing out, whatever you wanted to call it. “I think I may have found something.”

Lydia stirs from behind him. “And?”

Jordan finds himself just as eager for the answer as she is. “We’re going to need a fire.” Peter doesn’t sound pleased about that; Jordan vaguely recalls that the Hales died in a fire.

“There’s a fireplace in the den.” Lydia gets up, and before Jordan can try the same Peter’s there scooping him up.

He feels his ears pinken. “I can walk.” He mutters, his throat feeling scratchy.

Peter huffs, “hardly. Just relax, we’ve got it.”

Even though he probably shouldn’t be Jordan finds himself doing as Peter says. His body relaxing into the hotter warmth of Peter’s.

In the den they build a fire up, and Jordan finds himself staring at it, entranced. Faintly he can hear Peter and Lydia converse with each other, but it’s unimportant compared to the heat of the fire; before everything he would have been concerned at how close they’ve put him to it, right up by the screen, but now it just feels so _good_.

About five minutes after a thick down comforter gets wrapped around him it gets even better, the feathers and fabric holding even more heat around him. He has no idea how much time passes, but he eventually does feel…normal, he can’t really say human if he’s not one can he?, again. Sitting up he finds himself glancing around.

Lydia’s curled up on the couch in a dangerously thin tanktop and boxers, her hair piled messily on top of her head. Even though he’s a good fifteen feet away he can smell and _see_ the sweat on her. Peter’s nowhere to be seen.

A little unsteadily he stands, wrapping the comforter tighter around himself he goes over to Lydia, gently laying a hand on her shoulder. A tiny shiver passes through her and a moment later she’s opening her eyes and smiling up at him. “You look a lot better.”

Despite everything he finds himself smiling in response. “I _feel_ better. But you’re not looking so good.” There’s a flush coming over her that has nothing to do with embarrassment or arousal.

She looks away. “We had to build up the heat in here, it’s over a hundred.” A heartbeat later: “it got too hot for Peter.”

Which takes him by surprise, both the temperature and the fact that Peter stuck around for at least a little while. As gently as he can manage he ushers Lydia up and towards the door, “you should go out and cool down, this much heat’s not good for you long term.” He’s seen heat exhaustion enough that he knows how it hurts people.

For a moment it looks like she’s going to fight him, but then she sighs. “Alright.” She opens the door, letting in what feels like cool air. Despite her agreement she lingers in the doorway.

And he finds he’s got to ask. “So did Peter figure out what I am?”

Lydia nods, then unexpectedly a grin spreads across her face. “But he hasn’t told me yet,” the grin gets ruined a little by her rolling eyes. “He clearly wants to make a dramatic moment of it.”

Jordan laughs.

-

Peter does indeed make a dramatic moment of it.

_Dragon_.

After it’s out there Lydia quips that she’s _not_ moving to a desert, but she might be convinced about the Caribbean, or southern Italy, or…Peter laughs.

And Jordan wonders why these two people are acting like he’s going to leave, like they’re going to follow.


	2. Day 2 - Cuddling somewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor Trigger warning for vaguely nightmarish depiction of the Hale fire.

_There's no escaping the fire. It consumes every thought, every sense; all he sees is red and orange and yellow and white, all he smells is smoke and cooked flesh, all he tastes is ash, all he hears is_ crack sizzle pop hiss crash  _the screams ended long ago, all he feels is heat._

 

_Some of that heat creeps up along his back and he lashes out, as if one could hurt fire, trying to escape. Trying to run he sees a burned and ruined Talia reaching for him, begging him to save her, but he_ can't  _he's sorry, so sorry sister._

 

_Chill, it's not truly ice cold, but in this heat it damn well feels like it, touches him; and a hummed nonsense melody cracks through the fire-noise. Aching and tired he reaches,_ I don't want to hurt anymore _. And Peter falls_ .

 

“Peter!” Lydia's worried voice breaks through the last of his nightmare, and Peter hesitantly opens his eyes –he might not worry about much, but hurting those he _does_ care for?, oh yes. He looks her over while her cool hands cup his cheeks, at least she looks unharmed, and infinitesimally he relaxes.

 

But behind him the sheets rustle and Peter tenses again; sometimes it's so easy to forget Jordan shares their bed as well now. Not letting himself look at Lydia he turns to stare at the newest part of their lives.

 

Overall Jordan looks unharmed too but he's also cradling his right arm close to his chest.

 

Unthinking Peter reaches out and lays a hand on his right shoulder, instinct automatically leeching pain. Some of the pain leaves Jordan's eyes and he gives Peter a shaky smile. “Thanks.”

 

Intellectually Peter knows Jordan will be fine come morning –dragon's don't heal wolf fast, but they're no slouches– but that doesn't stop the wolf from worrying. Lydia wrapping herself around his torso is a brief distraction, more welcome for the chill that comes with her, and the way her scent overwhelms the lingering wisps of smoke trapped in his nose, than anything else at the moment. Fighting past the small knot in his throat Peter speaks. “Apologies.”

 

Behind him Lydia's huff of laughter tickles his neck, and a real smile spreads across Jordan's face at his 

formality.

 

Pain builds as a steady buzz as Jordan scoots closer, and Peter has to fight the impulse to escape the heat that comes with him. It's worth it when Jordan lays a soft kiss at the corner of Peter's mouth, for a moment all Peter can smell is sun-warmed rocks and wind. “Apology accepted.” There's a wicked twitch to Jordan's mouth when he pulls away. “But you owe me.”

 

Laughter is a shock. And with it leaves the last of the tension in him. He can feel the other two relax as well, reading off cues they don't even know they're being given. Peter would feel bad about that except that they chose him, no matter how anyone else might try to argue it.

 

He lets Lydia shift them both so that he's on his back and she's mostly atop him, hesitantly, but more willing once Peter's arm curls around him, Jordan tucks himself into Peter's other side. Peter might be unable to get back to sleep himself, but he won't deny a little comfort to these two while they do.

 

The tones of their breathing, the faint hitches that aren't quite snores from Lydia, the way Jordan sometimes hisses and rumbles, chase the last of the nightmare from his mind.


	3. Day 3 - Gaming/watching a movie

Lydia feels the prickle at the back of her neck that means Peter finally managed to circumnavigate Stiles’ new method of trying to keep him out and is lurking nearby. But she won’t acknowledge him just yet, she has a race to win.

She knows when Stiles and Scott have finally noticed the other wolf because their carts veer on screen, as well as a few choice phrases of annoyance, and she manages to jump way ahead of them; next to her she can feel Jordan’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. She only thinks it fair really, if Stiles can have Derek draped all over him like an afghan and Scott can have Kira curled up next to him cheering him on –Kira wasn’t allowed to play video games since she exploded an Xbox–, then she should be able to have her own cuddle buddy and right now that couldn’t be Jordan.

A smile twitches on her lips as she sees Jordan blue shell Mason, to many groans of annoyance –though really what did they expect when everyone agreed to play Mario Kart? Almost instinctively she and Jordan scoot to either side of the loveseat they’ve taken over and moments later Peter’s between them, arms across the back of the couch almost, but not quite, touching either of them.  _ Asshole _ . 

She however has no such compunctions, twisting slightly puts her legs on Peter's lap her toes barely grazing Jordan's thigh. Most of the pack's giving her side-eyes, except Derek who just rolls his eyes, and Malia who couldn't care less what her dad got up to. But she just smiles in response because they have no idea what she's gotten herself into.

Magnanimously she lets Jordan win, well mostly magnanimously: if he wins than she gets to watch Peter go down on him; they've long since turned pack game night into their own dirty game of sexual favors.

Underneath and next to her she feels Peter grow more interested, and just because she's a cruel woman she grins. “Just wait I'm going to win the next one.”

“As if Lydia,” Stiles scoffs.

She just gives him a look, “oh just you wait Stiles.” If she wins that Jordan has to go down on _her_.

And really what's a better way to spend the night?


	4. Day 4 - On A Date

Breakfast dates are rare because they're a pain in ass, who really wants to get up a six AM just to make sure they'll actually get seating at their breakfast restaurant of choice? But they're also a treat, because The Bakery's food is like mana from on high and if Jordan weren't already in a committed relationship he'd probably try and marry their brulee french toast.

 

So when Lydia sends him a text, and Peter too he's sure, that they're going on one tomorrow morning he's surprised and a little. . .curious.

 

_Why?_ He texts back, glad that he's not doing anything to important at the moment at his desk.

 

It takes Lydia a few minutes to reply, which mean's she's either being careful in her word choice, or Peter already started talking with her before Jordan sent his message.  _Surprise_. 

 

Realizing he's not going to get anything else out of her he texts Peter:  _???_

 

And it's a testament to their relationship that he only has to send that for Peter to understand what he's trying to convey.  _You're asking me to explain the complex vagaries of Lydia? Just get home earlier so we can all go to bed after dinner, hopefully that'll make you less of a cranky lizard come morning._

 

Jordan finds himself blushing a little at Peter's clear teasing, it's not his fault mornings are still  _cold_ , despite it basically being summer.

 

“Parrish!”

 

There's a hint of relief at finally having a distraction as Jordan slips his phone into his pocket and heads up to the front desk, though in the back of his mind he's still wondering.

 

-

 

Whoever invented six AM should be shot Jordan thinks as he groggily climbs out of the nice warm bed. They're all a little subdued as they dress and generally get ready. By the time they're all ready, Jordan is still only about three-quarters awake so he's more than happy to let Peter drive.

 

When they finally find a parking spot nearby The Bakery already has a short line leading up to the front door. But they seem to be about eighth in line, which means they should be seated relatively quickly thank God.

 

The doors open at seven and they're soon ushered in and given a table, they order drinks as soon as they can, a brief ripple of surprise going through him and Peter when Lydia orders green tea instead of coffee.

 

Jordan feels awake by the time he's on his third cup of coffee. After their server takes their orders –brulee french toast for him, Peter's 'everything in it please' omelet, and Lydia gets a fruit parfait, another oddity– Lydia sits up a little straighter and not-fidgets. “So I told you both there was a surprise and. . .” her fingers twist around her tea mug and Jordan wonders if he should be worried, from the look Peter's giving him the other man's wondering the same thing.

 

“I'm pregnant.”

 

Of course, you can't hear a pin drop because they're in a crowded restaurant –though Jordan's sure he and Peter actually could with their hearing–, but the sentiment's there. Peter breaks it first, pulling Lydia into his lap and giving her a potentially embarrassing kiss. When they break apart there's a strange smile on Peter's face. “Oh.” A warm feeling settles in Jordan's chest as he watches Peter nose and nuzzle Lydia's face and neck.

 

Since he himself isn't sitting next to Lydia, he and Peter alternate who sits next to her when they're at small tables, he reaches out and takes her hand turning it over and bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss her palm then her wrist.

 

She smiles at him, and unfazed by Peter continues. “Melissa confirmed it for me yesterday, I'm about two months along.”

 

Jordan's known it could possibly happen since Lydia turned eighteen, they've been careless a few times and they have actually talked about it once or twice, but it actually happening? “Wow,” he finally manages to get out.

 

By then their food comes, and they have to re-arrange themselves into more respectable positions or risk getting thrown out.

 

Despite Lydia's bombshell their conversation while eating isn't as stilted and awkward as Jordan had feared it might have been. They talk about Lydia's college plans, Jordan's both surprised and unsurprised that her pregnancy hasn't really changed them, what they'll all do if Lydia decides to go to MIT versus Cambridge, Jordan tells them a few of the more ridiculous 911 calls he's had to deal with, Peter talks about how his cataloging the Hale vault project is going. It's normal, and nice, and not what he's expecting.

 

Since Lydia's the one who set up the date she's the one who pays, and Jordan finds himself sticking closer to her than he normally would as they leave. Halfway to the car he gives in and scoops her up, burying his face in her hair.

 

Lydia just laughs and pulls far enough away that she can lean in and kiss him.

 


	5. Day 5 – Kissing

Lydia thoroughly enjoys the fact that Jordan and Peter are completely different kissers.

Kissing is always a fight with Peter; both in and out of bed. Sometimes she wins, sometimes he wins, sometimes it's a draw –draw is her favorite. There's always teeth and biting, and occasionally blood; it turns her on that blood and pain turn Peter on, a rush that comes from knowing _she's_ the one who inflicted that even if the injury soon fades. It's their relationship boiled down into a single action and she loves it.

Jordan's basically the other end of the spectrum. His kisses are usually always sweet, though never hesitant –for all his sexual leanings Jordan's never been afraid to ask for what he wants. Out of bed they're usually quick things: a peck on the cheek, the forehead, temple, and once, an occurrence which she will never _ever_ tell anyone about even Peter, on the nose. He gives fantastic 'hello' and 'goodbye' kisses too, making her feel like she's just timetraveled to the set of some 50s movie.

In bed his kisses gain an edge, asking for things nice, polite people shouldn't ask for in public. And while she's certainly not going to forget herself or Peter while they're together, she loves catering to Jordan during sex. He breaks so _wonderfully_ when she, or Peter, or both of them finally drive him into orgasm that it's hard not to.

And watching Jordan and Peter kiss is 'nuther kettle of fish completely. It's never a 'fight for dominance' or whatever other man-kiss cliché you can think off, because even if Jordan initiates it he always lets Peter take control. But it's wonderful to watch in it's own right. The way their lips mash and glide, the way Jordan will grind up against Peter, asking for more; unless Lydia's already giving him what he wants. The way Peter will eventually leave Jordan's mouth in favor of his neck, or his chest, or his cock.

So yes, Lydia loves kissing her men, and being kissed by them, and watching them kiss. It's a rush all it's own, compounding the fact, making it more _real_ , that they're both hers and that she's theirs. Reassuring in a way sex could never be; not that there is anything _wrong_ with all the sex they have.


	6. Day 6 - Wearing each others’ clothes

Saturdays were for lazing about, taking things easy. . .unless of course you were rudely awakened at the ass-crack of dawn because Stiles, Mason, and Liam got kidnapped by _something_. And Peter doesn’t even want to know what sort of unholy hell those three we most likely trying to do, because it will make him want to drink, which is pointless.

So there’s a bit of a scramble to get dressed and out the door, which is probably how it ends up with Peter wearing a pair of Jordan’s pants, Jordan in one of his v-necks –with an uncomfortable shift when they finally get in the car that implies he might be wearing a pair of Peter’s boxers too–, and Lydia apparently unscathed clothing wise; though with her it’s sometimes hard to tell.

Once they’ve joined everyone else at the preserve there’s a brief debate before it’s decided that yes they will split up, but do remember to actually _use_ the walkie-talkies.

A few hours after that Peter’s getting thrown into a tunnel wall by a troll.

He damn well hopes Lydia and Jordan are planning on compensating him for this, because this is not how one should be spending their weekend. But he gets back up and returns to they fray.

Only an hour or two after that at least all the trolls are dead and Stiles, Mason, and Liam dully saved. And shortly after that Peter gratefully flops onto the bed, eliciting a laugh from Lydia. Turning his head slightly Peter narrows an eye at her. “I didn't see you contributing that much in the fight.”

She arches an eyebrow and gives him a droll look. “I'm more brain than brawn Peter,” she pats his shoulder. “We can't all be you.”

He snaps his teeth at her and flares his eyes, but before he can do anything else Jordan walks into the room fumbling with his pants. “Fuck Lydia, how can you wear these all the time? They itch like hell.”

The 'they' in question are soon revealed when Jordan shoves his pants off: apparently Jordan _didn't_ grab Peter's boxers that morning in their rush but instead the lacy yellow panties Lydia had been wearing yesterday. Peter doesn't know whether to laugh or stare at the teasing glimpses of skin.

Jordan goes to remove them, Lydia speaks first though. “No way, Peter's shirt first.”

The flush that creeps over Jordan is as lovely as ever, but he does what Lydia asks, looking decidedly uncomfortable when he's down to only the panties. Lydia, feeling no such thing, crooks her finger. “Come here.”

Peter turns over, all the better to watch whatever it is Lydia has planned, and to better appreciate the sight that is currently Jordan walking towards the bed. When he reaches them Lydia points to the floor. “Kneel.” Even though he's not the focus of Lydia's attentions Peter still feels a shiver of arousal pass through him.

Eyes a little blown Jordan does. “And now?” His voice has gone raspy, which Peter enjoys almost as much as Lydia's bossy voice, though he's certain Lydia will make Jordan pay for talking out of turn.

Propping herself on her elbows Lydia looks down on Jordan and rolls her eyes. “And now you take off my boxers,” so that's were they went, “and eat me out.”

Peter finds himself wholeheartedly agreeing with this plan; reaching out he playfully tweaks one of Lydia's nipples. “Anything I can do?” It's always a good thing to ask when Lydia gets like this.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches as Lydia's hips wiggle to help Jordan take off the aforementioned boxers. “Whatever you want with Jordan, as long as it doesn't stop him from doing his task.”

Jordan looks up from pushing up Lydia's skirt. “Don't I get a say in this?”

Peter has no idea what sort of look Lydia gives Jordan, but the one Peter gives him is probably more than a little proprietary. “No,” he and she manage to say a the same time.

Adam's apple bobbing Jordan's pupils threaten to swallow his iris. “Oh.”

As Peter gets up he starts undressing, wondering if Jordan looks just as enticing from the back as the front.


	7. Day 7- Cosplaying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's really short, sorry!
> 
> And a heap of love to whoever can guess who they've dressed up as.

“You do know no one will know who we are right?” Jordan reaches up to scratch at the effect scars on his face and Lydia bats his hand away with a glare, if he scratches them they're ruined; Peter had offered to give Jordan _real_ scars, but Jordan managed to gracefully decline.

Lydia smiles up at him anyways. “ _I_ know, and that's all that matters.” She links her arms with Jordan's and Peters as they enter the, thankfully short, line to get into the building the party's being hosted at. “And you look hot, so no more complaining.” Longish hair looks good on him and she wonders if she can convince him to grow it out.

Peter gives a toothy grin, reaching over to tweak Jordan's nose –the short silver chain with its razor blade and tiny vial of ink slipping out from his shirt again–. “It'll be fun watching them stutter and stammer while they try to guess who you are dear.”

Jordan flushes, but it's true he attracts drunk-or-shy college kids like flies. It's adorable really. Good thing she at least doesn't get jealous easily.

Before anything else can be said they reach the door and hand over their ID's, Jordan and Peter get '21 and over' stamps, and they're in.

And so beings Lydia's second official college party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love this pairing? Have a Tumblr (or even if you don't)? Come join your fellow shippers at [We Conquer Death](http://weconquerdeath.tumblr.com/)!


	8. Day 8- Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Pydia today folks. And shortish again.

Shopping with Lydia is always a treat, even if it's something as mundane as getting groceries. And it's a little nice that it's just the two of them for once. It's usually Jordan's job, but the man was currently at their apartment sick –how a _dragon_ had come down with a cold is beyond Peter–, and Peter's not letting Lydia go anywhere alone seven months along.

So yes, grocery shopping on a Sunday morning with a currently picky mother-of-his-unborn-child-regardless-of-biology. Who is narrowing her eyes at the bag he's currently holding. “No.”

“Lydia,” Peter Hale is not a man who whines. “It's a bag of _tortilla chips_. As far as chips go they're as boring as they get.”

Which earns him an arched eyebrow and crossed arms. “No,” her saccharine sweet tone just makes it worse. “Too salty.”

He decides it best not to mention the jerky she'd thrown into the cart not five minutes earlier, and gives a gusty sigh. As he passes her he leans down and gives her a short kiss; from the end of the aisle he hears someone _coo_ , and part of him wants to growl that he's not putting on a show for them. “Apparently we're adorable,” he tells her as he pulls away.

“Hmmmm?” Lydia still looks a little lost from the kiss, which makes Peter very, very smug.

Quickly he spares a glance down the aisle. “There's a woman with two kids near the chocolates, she cooed when I kissed you.”

“Chocolates?”

Peter sighs as he watches Lydia push the cart to the end of the aisle for a few moments before dutifully trotting after her. He'll slip the bag of chips in while she's distracted.


	9. Day 9- Hanging out with friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since yesterday was just Pydia, today's just Marrish.

The early June sun feels good on Jordan's back as he sits on the outspread blanket Lydia brought, watching said woman walk off to get them more food –he'd offered to go, but she'd said she saw her advisor over by the food and wanted to ask her something–. She looks particularly gorgeous in her blue floral dress, they all loved their currently five-month old son Alex but Lydia's also equally happy she can wear her old clothes again, as she walks off.

Absentmindedly he checks his phone to see if Peter's texted in the last five minutes since he last checked his phone. Nothing, disappointing really, he'd been hoping Peter would send another weirdly adorable picture of Alex. Slipping his phone back in his pocket he lay down completely on the blanket.

He may or may not have been unabashedly napping by the time she came back. A gentle foot to the ribs wakes him. “Look, they actually have barbeque now.” He's half afraid she'll drop both plates on his chest in her horrible-because-it's-pointed-at-him glee.

Jordan groans, because it was _one_ single comment about how they shouldn't be calling it a barbeque if they weren't going to offer any. Rolling over slightly he playfully lunges to try and snag an ankle but she deftly steps out of the way. “Jordan! Behave, I want you to meet some people.”

 

Opening his eyes further he sees a young man and woman, probably about Lydia's age, next to her. The woman was only a little taller than Lydia herself, with short black hair, with features, and light brown skin that spoke of mixed race, though Jordan couldn't tell you _what_ races. The guy also had black hair, though his had a pale pink splotch in it and he looked about as standard white male as you got. He smiles at both of them. “Hi.”

Lydia rolls her eyes at him. “Lisa, Tchai, this is my ridiculous boyfriend Jordan. Jordan these are my friends Elisabete and Tchaikovsky.”

Tchaikovsky, and who named their kid Tchaikovsky?, flopped onto the blanket. “Nice to meet you dude.”

Elisabete sat much more gracefully. “Hello Jordan.”

“Hi, again.” Reaching out he accepted his plate from Lydia. “Thanks.” And the barbeque is even slathered in sauce, mmmmm.

Which gets him an affectionate smile. “You're welcome you doof.”

After finishing a rib, Lydia had upbraided him enough times about talking with his mouth full, he turned his attention to Lydia's friends. “So how did you three meet?”


	10. Day 10- Wearing kigurumis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And to round out the single ships: some Pedan/Pordan.

Peter looks at his seven month old son sleeping in his crib. He blinks, no still there.

He closes and rubs his eyes. Still there. “Jordan,” he calls out softly; no need to shout when the lover in question can hear a gold coin drop a mile away. With a grimace of distaste he scoops Alex, amusingly not only named after Peter's brother-in-law but Jordan's grandfather as well, up. Alex sleeps on, apparently oblivious of the horror that's been done to him.

Jordan's footsteps are unworried as they approach. But soon enough he's in the nursery. “Peter, what. . .” His eyes finally focus on the image before him and he stops talking. Peter feels his eyes flare when Jordan takes out his phone.

“Take pictures and it's coming out of your hide later.”

The impertinent chit sticks his tongue out and takes pictures. “I think it's adorable, Peter and the darling baby dragon.”

Which is exactly what it is: somehow, despite the fact that it's nowhere near Halloween, Jordan –and it had to be Jordan, Lydia had far too much taste to do this to her son– had apparently found a dragon suit, complete with wings and tail and dressed their son in it.

Peter does his best to keep himself calm, Alex responds poorly to extreme emotions they've found. “I hardly think _any_ dragon should be 'darling', let alone our son.” Though they actually have no idea what sort of being he'll be, so far they've just been using the catch-all of 'hybrid'; after all, it isn't like there's a precedence for werewolf-banshee-dragon children.

Jordan glances down at his phone and Peter has to resist the urge to pop his claws when he realizes the other man is _texting_. “You're just jealous I couldn't get a wolf one, sorry. They were out of stock and for some reason I couldn't order and just get one when the next shipment came in. And there was an annoying dearth of banshee ones.” Putting his phone away Jordan steps next to Peter, laying a peck on his cheek. “Admit it, he looks adorable.”

He narrows his eyes. “I think he looks ridiculous and we should take off this abomination and burn it.”

The pout he gets in response does nothing to sway him. Jordan's phone chimes, providing a brief distraction. He pulls it back out again and checks the screen. “Well it looks like your out-voted. Lydia thinks it's adorable too. . .she thinks I should take more pictures.”

Gently Peter sets Alex back in his crib before turning back around and letting himself wolf out a little.

Like the delicious morsel he is Jordan freezes, then slowly starts to back away knowing that bolting will just egg Peter on. “Peter. . .”

Peter makes a 'tsk' sound. “Now, now Jordan. I did say I'd take those photos out of your hide.”

Jordan makes a run for it.

The apartment they share works in Peter's favor though, and soon enough he's got Jordan cornered. Despite the fact they were the same height Peter still manages to loom above the other man; it helps that, despite Jordan's predator roots, he acts like prey more often than not. “Now,” Peter manages to keep his tone conversational. “What were you saying about that suit you put our son in?” Leaning down he uses his fangs to softly bite along Jordan's jaw.

“That. . .” Jordan takes a shaky breath, clearly trying to center himself, not that Peter's going to let him stay that way for long. “That it's cute, and we should get more.”

Seems that Jordan needs a bit more persuading. Not that Peter isn't up to the task.


	11. Day 11- With animal ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a jump forward in time in this one.

The thunder of footsteps is warning enough and with a resigned sigh Lydia sets her book down and braces herself for dealing with a soon to be awake baby, though she can hope Olwen will somehow manage to sleep through the racket this time. Alex and Sam, Derek and Stiles' oldest adopted son, burst into the library. “Mom!” She grimaces, which Alex notices almost at the same moment he notices Olwen in her arms. “Mom,” he whispers. It's almost comedic really. “Wanna see what papa showed us how to do?”

She feels Olwen squirm in her arms and she starts rocking her. Feeling some measure of relief at the sound of more adult footsteps headed their way. “Sure, but be quick about it please.” Anyone with hearing over normal human levels hates baby crying. As if hearing her thoughts Olwen starts whimpering, Lydia slows her rocking a little and starts humming.

Alex and Sam share a look before they both close their eyes and scrunch their faces up in ways that makes Lydia wish she had her phone, or a camera, on her. Soon though, their apparent focus shows fruit and they've both wolfed out.

Despite everything Lydia's suitably impressed, she's figured out when it comes to the offspring of two, or more, different species it's a crap-shoot as to what the kid'll turn out to be, and sometimes you find out sooner than you'd think possible.

Standing up she bounces Olwen a few times, which seems to work better in settling her than the rocking if the ending of the whimpering is anything to go by, as she heads over to the two boys. “Wow, that's pretty cool.” And because she's a mother and allowed to do these sorts of things she shifts her grip on Olwen so she can reach out and scratch Alex behind the ears.

“Moooom,” Alex whines as he leans in to the touch. Sam sniggers, though it's soon cut off when Peter reaches out and scratches behind _his_ ear.

She and Peter share a look. Peter snags the collars of both boys shirts and starts tugging them away. “Alright, you showed mom, now lets leave her and sissy alone, and we can go show dad and Laura.”

Excited by the prospect of showing off again the two boys thunder away, Peter's eye roll is affectionate. “Everything going to be alright?”

Lydia smiles as she readjusts her grip again, letting her reach out to scratch behind Olwen's ears, who gave a baby chuff them slipped back into sleep her features slipping back from wolfish to human. “Yeah, we'll be fine. Just make sure they keep quiet.”

He swoops down and lays a peck on her cheek, “anything for two of my favorite girls.” He walks off, closing the door behind him, while Lydia returns to her window seat enjoying the feeling of the sun through the window almost as much as Olwen does.

Gently brushing a finger against her daughter's cheek Lydia gives a little sigh, “now if only your big sister could show us what she is.”

Olwen just smacks her lips and wiggles a little closer to the patch of sun. Lydia feels her lips twitch into a small smile as she scoops her book back up.


	12. Day 12- Making Out

Lydia's lips crash into Jordan's and he willingly opens his mouth to the press of her tongue. He lets his hands slide up her back to toy with the clasp of her bra while hers dig into his hair, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

If she meant it as a distraction from Peter, it's not working out so well. Peter's nibbling is hard to ignore; even more so now since Peter's been growing out his goatee again. Jordan groans into Lydia as Peter bites one of the more sensitive parts of his neck.

She whimpers in response, grinding herself against him. He finds himself returning the favor as they finally divest him of his shirt. Lydia breaks away with a gasp, Jordan leans in and licks a strip up her neck, Peter gives an approving rumble behind him before turn Jordan's head to the awkward angle where they could kiss.

Where Lydia could be gentle when she wanted to be Peter didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word, not that Jordan would ever complain not with Peter's teeth digging into his bottom lip hard enough to just hurt with the darker knowledge that Peter could make it hurt a lot more if Jordan wanted him to.

He could feel Lydia move down his chest, her own teeth leaving love bites everywhere, nails raking red lines that made him shiver and twitch. When he feels Peter's hand insinuate itself between him and Lydia Jordan has to break away and let loose the reedy moan that's been building up inside him. Peter laughs as he goes back to mauling his neck.

They tear him apart and Jordan lets them, knowing they'll put him back together when they're done.


	13. Day 13- Eating Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another bit of a time jump, though this one would take place before "With Animal Ears".

“Alex, don't push Laura! You spill her ice cream and she gets yours.” Peter feels his lips twitch as Lydia's threat stops Alex dead.

“Like I want chocolate and bubblegum, yech.” Then again at five Laura's a very opinionated girl.

Peter shares a look of fond exasperation with Jordan as Alex sticks his tongue out at his little sister. Before Alex can do anything more Jordan reaches out with his free hand and ruffles his dark hair. “Be nice to your sister.”

Alex looks like he's going to protest for a few moments before settling and kicking some sand. Apparently pleased things went mostly her way Laura returns to eating her own raspberry ice cream. For a few moments there's only quiet as ice cream is eaten, Peter's quiet too even though he'd forgone ice cream if he really wants some he'll nibble off Jordan's butterscotch –Lydia's lavender and sea salt vanilla being a bit too not-sweet for him–.

The beach is pleasantly warm, and filled with other families out enjoying the spate of good weather. It's a well deserved vacation for all of them.

“Tide pools!” Alex excitedly points at the approaching rocky outcropping. Far to fast he wolfs down the last of his cone and turns to Peter. “Can we go see it dad? Please?”

Peter doesn't know why he's the one being asked here, it's not like he's a pushover. He shrugs as he takes a few steps forward. “I don't see why not, mom?” He arches an eyebrow at Lydia.

She snorts. “Go right ahead Alex.” The boy runs off. “But be careful!” She shouts after him.

“What about you Laura?” Peter looks down at his darling little girl.

Her face scrunches up, clearly putting all her thought into it. Eventually though she shakes her head. “No.”

“Want me to go and watch Alex?” Jordan's finishing off the last of his own ice cream wiping his hand clean on a napkin.

Lydia's smile is grateful. “If you wouldn't mind dear.”

“Of course not,” Jordan sweeps down and pecks Lydia's cheek, before jogging off after Alex.

“Don't forget to take pictures,” now Peter's the one shouting.

Jordan pulls his phone out of his pocket and waves it about like the ridiculous man he is.

He turns his attention to Laura who's wandered up towards the high tide line a little to poke at some seaweed, though that doesn't really distract him from Lydia threading her free hand around his arm. “This is nice. We should do it more often.”

“Knowing our luck this is the last nice day the coast'll have until next year.”

Even though he can't see it he knows Lydia's rolling her eyes. “You're such a sourpuss.”

A snort escapes him. “Hardly Lydia. Just being pragmatic.”

Lydia sticking her tongue out looks much like Alex did and Peter can't help but laugh.


	14. Day 14- Bodyswap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So technically the theme for this day is genderswap, but I decided that was a smidge. . .problematic.
> 
> And really, bodyswapping is a hell of a lot more fun.

Lydia, who is currently inhabiting Peter's body because of a witch, crosses her arms and glares at Peter, currently inside Jordan's body –with a nervous Jordan inside _her_ body sitting on the couch. “Really?”

Peter-in-Jordan gives a waggle of his eyebrows and a lecherous grin, which looks hilarious on Jordan's face. “Come now, you can't say you haven't thought of it at least once since the curse was cast. At the very least it will be an interesting experiment.”

Jordan-in-Lydia looks bashful, and Lydia is insanely glad Stiles and his camera left an hour ago because Lydia has never been bashful in her life –it smells like green, which Lydia will admit is a horrible description but it's all her mind can come up with. “I think it could be. . .interesting.”

A delightfully wicked smile spreads across Peter-in-Jordan's face; the kind that makes Lydia-in-Peter shift a little because the penis she currently has apparently likes that sort of thing, and also makes the room fill with the smell of sugar and Jordan-in-Lydia squirms. Which Lydia belatedly realizes is the smell of her body's arousal and. . .wow, okay uncomfortable erection now. “Alright.”

Peter-in-Jordan stalks, which is totally not Jordan at all but  _works_ , towards Jordan-in-Lydia, a curl of smoke –which has definitely never happened before– escaping from his nose.

Jordan-in-Lydia's eyes dilate and widen a bit and she, he?, tries to retreat into the couch. The scent of heat, which is an interesting realization that heat has a smell, joins the smell of sugar as Peter-in-Jordan kneels and hooks his hands behind Jordan-in-Lydia's knees. Inextricably pulling her, him?, closer.

Lydia-in-Peter squirms herself, himself?, as she watches Peter-in-Jordan's head dive under Jordan-in-Lydia's skirt. And deciding she's, he's?, not going to be completely voyeuristic about this strides over and half-keels on the couch, pulling Jordan-in-Lydia up a bit so they can kiss.

Her, his? their? Lydia kind of wonders why she's bothering, lips are soft than she'd thought they'd be, not that she's complaining.

Somehow Jordan manages to get her throat to produce his tell-tale moan as he arches up into her and Peter, which considering Peter's made a slurping noise she's well familiar with means that Jordan's discovering what it feels like to have your clit sucked. Lydia finds herself grinning and just to see if she can tip him into over-stimulation she reaches out and starts playing with his breasts.

He gasps and Lydia finds herself greedily drinking the sound down. She can feel Peter move and Jordan whines at what's probably the sudden lack of attention. His hands starts working on her belt, but while she's curious about what a blow job feels like from the other side she also doesn't want to ignore Jordan.

So she moves and pushes him down, just as easy when he's in her body as when he's in his own, realizing she's enjoying the feeling of Peter's heavier body pushing her more delicate body down. She twists herself so Peter isn't completely cut off, and moves down to start leaving hickeys on Jordan-in-Lydia's neck, while the hand not playing with his breasts snakes down to continue where Peter left off.

When Peter's hand snakes into her boxers she moans, and finds herself hoping it takes Stiles longer to find the counter spell than he said he would.


	15. Day 15- In a Different Clothing Style

Jordan has to work very hard to try and adjust his suit jacket, which despite the fact he knows it fits perfectly, still feels a little off. He is not a suit man and he's fairly certain everyone watching the wedding ceremony can tell.

He looks across the steps at Lydia, who looks lovely in her pale blue kimono with it's intricate and colorful geometric pattern, and as if sensing his desire to fiddle she arches an eyebrow. A clear ' _leave it alone_ ' if there ever was one.

He throws her an exasperated look, he'd do more if there weren't a hundred people watching them or if it wouldn't completely and utterly ruin Tchai and Claire's wedding. The groom and bride in question look resplendent in their tuxedo and vibrant red, gold, and white kimono respectively. And whoever made Claire's kimono, apparently a family heirloom from her mother's side, used real gold tread too, Jordan can smell it and feel it on the back of his tongue every time he breaths. 

Peter might joke about him hearing gold coins dropping a mile away, but Jordan finds it's fast becoming the truth as time goes on. Throwing a sidelong glance at the guests Jordan tries to spot his other lover in the crowd. It takes him a little longer than he would have thought, but there's Peter in the back, two year old Alex calmly on his lap, gnawing on a plastic toy of some sort. 

Finally they get to the vows and Jordan finds himself glad Tchai didn't ask him to be the best man, he'd've probably forgotten the rings. The best 'man' in question, Tchai's childhood friend Sophie, produces the rings out of her obi when prompted and soon enough they're being introduced to Mr. Tchaikovsky Faulkner and Mrs. Claire Faulkner. 

Laughing the couple race down the aisle of the church as the guests toss paper cranes instead of rice. Sophie and her girlfriend Lucy leave the steps first, then Jordan steps over and offers his arm to Lydia who takes it with great aplomb. 

As they walk down the aisle Jordan leans over a little to whisper at Lydia, and Peter should he so choose to listen in, “were you planning on changing before the reception?”

“Maybe, why are _you_ asking?” The smile on her face though tells him she knows exactly why he's asking.

Jordan finds himself grinning. “Well I've been told by very reliable sources that I have clever fingers, and I know you were complaining about how intricate and elaborate getting into this kimono was. So I'd thought I'd be a gentleman and offer my services in helping you get out of it.”

“Well you happen to be in luck, I _do_ find myself in need of a good pair of hands or two to help me get out of this as quickly as possible. We don't want to miss too much of the reception after all.” There's mischief in her tone and Jordan finds himself a little torn between hoping Peter finds someone to watch Alex for an hour or so or having Lydia all to himself.

“Well I'll do my best to accommodate you cinnamon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half-way through!


	16. Day 16- During their morning ritual(s)

With a sound halfway between a yawn and a groan Lydia curls deeper into Jordan sucking up the heat he's throwing off like a sponge. She can tell he's still completely asleep from the way he mutters and shifts into her; then again considering he'd worked the late shift at the department last night he damn well should be still asleep.

Down below she can hear Peter getting the kids ready for school. Just faintly she can pick out Alex's excited chatter, probably about the first soccer game tomorrow, Laura's occasional interjection, and Olwen's equally excited chatter about kindergarten. It makes Lydia feel warm in ways that have nothing to do with Jordan.

Eventually the chatter dies away as Peter herds them all into the car to be dropped off, when he's done with that he'll probably do more cataloging in the Hale Vault. And with a disappointed sigh Lydia peels herself away from Jordan and gets up herself. After showering she heads downstairs to get her own breakfast and the pot of coffee Peter's started for her.

Well fed and caffeinated she wanders into the study and continues work on her pet research project; usually she'd be the one up wrangling children so she could be on time to teach advanced mathematics at BHH, and hadn't that come as a bit of a surprise wanting to teach? But she'd taken the year off, excluding subbing, to work on this.

She'll stare at formulae for a few hours and then go wake Jordan up around noon, if he isn't already up. After he's done with his own breakfast they'll run down to BHH to roust Peter from the vault and, she checks the calender on her phone to make sure that yes it is one of Olwen's half-days, pick Olwen up from school.

But that isn't for a few hours yet, so she sits in her desk chair and turns to stare at the whiteboard covered in equations and half-formed ideas.


	17. Day 17- Spooning

As so often happens when Jordan comes home after a long shift of sheriffing, Stilinski having retired a few years before and Jordan managing –thanks to Lydia and Peter mostly– to get elected, and collapses into bed Peter and Lydia do a little sleepy shuffling to put him in the middle.

Tonight Peter is at his back, Jordan greedily enjoying the heat the other man throws off –every once in a while Jordan will embarrassingly realize he's draped himself over the other man, in public no less, like a lizard on a hot rock, not that Peter _ever_ complains–, with Lydia tucked neatly into his front.

He loves how comforting this is, surrounded by the two people who he cares about most and would do anything for, knowing they feel the same about him. Sure he could do without the muttering that sometimes occurs around him; for the most part they somehow managed to keep their private life out of his campaign, but despite Peter and Lydia's claims they couldn't actually do  _everything_ .

Taking a deep breath, he pushes that as far aside as he can, frustrating thoughts aren't conducive to sleep as Lydia would say. Sleep isn't coming however, and with a annoyed sigh Jordan opens his eyes. Even in the dark he can still pick out details: the glitter of metal on Lydia's vanity from her jewelry, the line of moonlight, full in a week, at the bottom of the curtain, the way Lydia's nestled into his shoulder, one of her legs tossed over his waist to tangle with Peter's.

Peter's breath ghosts across the back of his neck, a constant, comforting tickle. A not-a-snore escapes Lydia and Jordan's lips twitch. He closes his eyes again and inhales, picking out their scents: pine and vellum is Peter, while Lydia's is rosemary and something floral with just the faintest hint of sugar. He breaths deep once more, hoping their scents will help him relax.

Eventually he's sure he drifts off to sleep, because the next time he opens his eyes it's early afternoon and Lydia's crouched over him with a smile on her face. And there are worse ways to wake up.


	18. Day 18- Doing Something Together

Peter knows it gets him odd looks, but he also knows that won't stop him from arguing with Lydia, Jordan having long since been barred from such discussions, about such things as whether or not they should paint the nursery for their second child 'plum blossom', 'clematis', or 'brave purple'. Not when it's something they're both passionate about; or when it pays off in the bedroom.

But now all the 'arguing' is done and over with they're in the middle of the dirty business of painting; they don't even have to worry about Alex getting in the way, being that Derek agreed to babysit.

They laid the primer coat yesterday and hopefully get all of rest of the painting done today. The windows are wide open, giving Peter's nose some relief, and since it was Lydia's turn to chose the music the radio's blasting the local Top 40 station; with Lydia seemingly more intent on dancing than painting, and don't think Peter hasn't noticed Jordan occasionally dancing along as well.

For the most part only their work clothes have been victims of splotches of 'brave purple', except for Jordan who'd annoyed Lydia earlier and gotten a paintbrush swipe down his neck for the trouble. Peter barely managing to escape his own swipe from Jordan at his laughter.

A small part of Peter's surprised that they've lasted this long, and for Peter four years _is_ a long time. To him the person he was before the fire is stranger, and the less they talked about the six years he spent in a coma the better, so really to Peter's reckoning he's only been 'alive' for a little over five years. And having spent most of that in a mostly stable relationship?

So yes these two still manage to. . . something cold and a little tacky hits his temple. Ever so slowly he turns to see Lydia and Jordan trying their best not to giggle. After wiping off most of the paint with a sleeve he raises his roller in a threatening manner and charges.


	19. Day 19- In Formal Wear

Jordan and Peter loiter outside the door to their room as they wait for Lydia to finish getting ready; she'd tossed them out a few minutes earlier when she'd gotten annoyed with Peter's impatience. They stand shoulder to shoulder facing the door, waiting.

Finally though the door opens and she steps out, looking drop dead gorgeous in a lacy dark blue dress. Since he's the one she's less annoyed with Jordan pushes himself off the wall and offers her his elbow and leaning down to peck her cheek. “You look stunning.”

Lydia smiles. “Thank you Jordan.” She turns her attention to Peter, and so does Jordan though not as directly. Arching an eyebrow.

He arches one right back and goes to stand next to Jordan. “Sweetheart if it didn't make us late for dinner and our play I'd take you back to the room and ravish you senseless.”

She throws her head back and laughs as they descend the stairs to the main floor of their B&B, the hilariously named McCall House –Lydia wouldn't stop sending snapchats to Scott about it, and out the door. Arm in arm strolling down towards Main street and dinner.

This four day trip up to Ashland had so far been a wonderful vacation for the three of them, away from the hustle and bustle, if you could call it that, of Beacon Hills in summer as well as some much cherished alone time for all of them, without having to worry about a two year old interrupting. Even if it had been a bit of a headache negotiating everything with the local pack.

It'd so far been worth it though. As they were seated, Lydia's choice of restaurant since it's the play she picked tonight, Peter, sitting across from Lydia though they'd made up in the block and a half it took them to get from the B&B to the restaurant, brought up spending the next day in Lithia park again. It's something Jordan's all for, but both of them had yet to convince Lydia of it though seeing as tomorrow is their last full day in town she might be more inclined now.

“A nice out of the way spot all to ourselves, a delicious picnic lunch, some fun in the sun,” this accompanied by a waggle of eyebrows as if Peter's meaning hadn't been clear enough. “A nice, leisurely day to round out the whole trip.”

Lydia seems unimpressed by Peter as she peruses the menu, then again Jordan'd felt her legs shifting the moment they sat down and is about 89% certain she'd got the one not hooked over his knee on Peter's lap. “I don't know Peter,” she purses her lips. “I might need more convincing after the show.”

Jordan finds himself rolling his eyes at the two of them. “Do you need convincing too Jordan?” Peter's droll tone and raised eyebrow send and interesting shiver down Jordan's spine.

“No,” he resists the urge to fiddle with his own menu, though it's hard to act unaffected when your scent probably gives everything away.

Peter grins and returns to his own menu. “If you say so dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way the McCall House is in fact a real B&B in Ashland, and given that Lithia's 93 acres of park Peter's idea isn't all that far fetched.


	20. Day 20- Dancing

The Glenn Miller record on the player crackles for a few moments and Peter makes an absent note to clean it when they're done. He and Jordan waltz, it seemed a good idea to start him on the most basic, around the living room, on the couch Alex looks bored out of his mind while two year old Laura on his lap is clearly entranced; under his breath Jordan's still counting time and Peter has to bite back a smile.

“May I cut in?” Lydia has a fond smile on her face.

With barely a though Peter steps away. “By all means, it'll do Jordan good to learn how to lead.”

Jordan pouts as he and Lydia position themselves. “Am I really that bad?” A three count and they're waltzing, if slowly.

Peter brushes a kiss against Jordan's cheek as they dance past. “You're getting better dear, that's all that matters.” As the two of them turn Lydia's skirt bells enticingly; a smile twitching on his lips Peter goes to the couch and scoops Laura up.

Alex perks up almost instantly. “Can I go?”

Peter arches an eyebrow as he tucks Laura against his shoulder, she latches on like a limpet and starts trying to gnaw a hole in his shirt. “Where exactly will you be going?”

“Papa says I can dig holes for planting stuff in the new bed.” Alex enjoys, to Peter at least, the strangest things.

“Jordan?” If he hears Peter's question he doesn't answer, brow furrowed in concentration as Lydia teaches him one of the fancier bits of footwork. Peter gives a quiet sigh. “Aright, but stay where I can hear you alright?”

Alex nods vigorously as he jumps up from the couch; Peter braces himself as his legs get tackled, which is what passes for a hug in Alex's mind, the the boy dashes out of the room and a few moments later Peter hears the front door open, but not shut, and the screen door clatter. He finds he's not sure if that's a bit of cleverness on Alex's part or if the boy's just being lazy.

Peter shrugs, which has the added bonus of dislodging Laura's toothy hold on his shirt, and decides someone else can worry about that. As he turns his attention back to his lovers the waltz ends and a much faster song begins. With a smile Peter goes over and hands Laura over to Jordan, who grumbles good naturedly as he takes her, and sweeps Lydia up into a bit of impromptu swing dancing.


	21. Day 21- Cooking/ Baking

Lydia comes home from her weekly coffee date with Kira and Malia to Jordan's 80s station playing loudly and said lover singing along. And she finds she can't help but smile as she enters the kitchen to see Jordan standing in front on a pot on the stove, shaking his hips; while next to him Alex stands on a step stool, arms elbow deep in a metal mixing bowl.

Stepping up behind Jordan she wraps her arms around his waist. “And what're we doing here?”

Jordan jumps a little –she loves that she can still get him like that– but Alex seems unperturbed as he grins at her. “Mom, mom! I'm helping papa make dinner!” Proudly he lifts his hands out of the bowl showing off the bits of ground meat and breadcrumbs stuck to them.

“I see that. And what are you making?”

Jordan takes one of her hands and raises it up to kiss the back of it. “Alex is making meatballs for next week, And I'm finishing up the beef barley vegetable stew for tonight.”

For a moment Lydia just buries her face in Jordan's, though from the smell of it it might actually have been Peter's, shirt. “And were are dad and sissy?”

Alex makes a face as he goes back to combining the meatball mixture. “Rara didn't like the music so dad too her for a walk.”

“He also mentioned something about maybe picking up some churned and frozen dairy products.” This time Lydia buries her face in Jordan's shirt to muffle her laughter; Alex was starting to get to that age where he understood the spelling game and so they had to get creative in keeping things from him. “They should be back soon though. Do you want to help Alex wash up so he can set the table mom?”

Alex makes another face. “I don't need help washing up.” As if to demonstrate he takes his hands out of the bowl and starts using his body to scoot the step stool over to the sink.

With an affectionate roll of her eyes Lydia lets go of Jordan and grabs plastic wrap to put over the bowl. As she's putting it in the fridge she hears the front door open, quickly followed Laura's excited babble-talk.

Closing the fridge she leaves the kitchen to greet them, ducking her head briefly into the dinning room to make sure Alex set the table right.

Peter's got a plastic grocery bag in one hand, which answers one question, and Laura in the other. Upon seeing her Laura wildly waves her arms about, nearly hitting Peter a few times, “mama mama!”

As she leans up to kiss Peter hello she extracts Laura. “And how was your walk?”

“Good, Laura seemed to enjoy making silly faces at everyone we passed, though at least they all seemed to find it charming. And the store had what I was looking for so we've got delicious things for after dinner.”

Which is about when Alex barrels into the hall. “Dinner's ready mom and dad!” He nearly bowls Peter over trying to hug him, she wonders if one day he'll succeed. “What's in the bag dad?”

Peter clicks his tongue. “It's a surprise. Have you washed up?”

“I washed up before I set the table,” Alex whines.

Lydia's attention gets, literally, pulled away by Laura tugging her hair. “Mama doggies.”

Bouncing her daughter Lydia wanders into the dinning room. “Did you see doggies on your walk?”

“Yah yah, big doggies and. . .” Laura's chatter becomes part of a soundtrack as Jordan starts carrying in bowls of stew, smiling at her as she takes her seat at the head of the table. Soon Peter and Alex's voices join in as they enter too.

And Lydia can't help but feel love.


	22. Day 22- In Battle, side by side

No matter how much Peter loves Jordan, and he does, he finds himself steering far clear of him when he starts breathing fire –and hadn't that been a task and a half figuring out. The ghoul who had the unfortunate luck to be in the way screams as it's incinerated; filling Peter with a vicious glee as he charges at his own target claws at the ready, no teeth if he can help it he'd rather not go through the 'cure' Lydia and Stiles managed to find for the infection.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her spear flash and gleam as she attacks, though it's only enough to slow it down and not stop it. Before Peter can reach her Mason is there, impromptu flame thrower roaring.

All this fire, the only safe way to kill a ghoul, has Peter jittery. Though conversely Peter's glad Scott'd managed to realize, somewhere around the third ghoul attack on helpless civilians, that they couldn't be reasoned with at all and initiated a hunt; though as an omega Peter had really be about to go after them all his lonesome considering they'd attacked Lydia _twice_ , once when she'd even had the kids with her.

Willingly Peter lets the blood-boiling rage that fills him again at that thought flood him and take over. Making everything a bit of a blur.

He smells Lydia next to him a few times, and even more often than her Jordan; his fire burning hotter and cleaner than any of the makeshift fire apparatus the pack managed to make with Stiles' anarchist's bible. Not a surprise to Peter, but he hadn't missed the flare of disappointment on Scott's face.

Eventually though hands, both warm and cool, settle themselves on him and faintly there are voices tugging at his mind. Lydia breaks through first as she always does. “It's done Peter, you can relax.”

Taking calming breaths he focuses himself again. “I never relax Lydia, you know that.”

On his other side Jordan laughs. Feeling relatively normal Peter surveys the battlefield, while everyone's blood-splattered, there's no gaunt features or eye jaundice to suggest they've been infected. Which is good because all Peter wants at the moment is the hottest shower he can stand and possibly 'we survived' sex, if he doesn't just fall onto bed asleep after the aforementioned shower.

Scott, Stiles, and Derek are going through the grim duty of double-checking all the ghouls are, in fact, dead and ash.

Leaning on each other they manage to get to Lydia's car relatively fast. And though none of them are seriously injured Peter finds himself and Jordan leaning against the car, with at least him feeling worn, while Lydia pulls out the plastic vinyl sheets they finally bought after about the forth or fifth time Lydia complained about having to get her seats re-covered because of bloodstains.

After she's laid everything out Peter feels Jordan maneuver him into the backseat, which he'd complain about if he weren't so exhausted. The ride home is silent, and so is the journey from the car upstairs to their bedroom –at least they don't have to worry about curious children, Kira and Malia having taken them and the other nine children the pack managed to make and accrue over the past twelve years to a safe house outside of town.

Overall Peter's not one for hyperbole but stepping into the hot water of the shower feels like heaven. Their washing of each other, while careful, is perfunctory with no implications of sex now or later. Clean and mostly dry they stumble to bed, and for Peter at least he barely manages to get under the sheets before he's out like a light. 


	23. Day 23- Arguing

Lydia's smile could have made stone bleed. “I don't think you understand Peter, I'm going whether you want me to or not. That was just me being polite and letting you know I was going.”

Jordan always feels strange and awkward when Peter and Lydia fight. Part of him gets that this is who they are and if they didn't argue and bite at each other things would be a hell of a lot more tense between them, but those were the everyday sort of fights, this, this was something worse.

He watches as Peter looms over Lydia, resisting the urge to get between them and try and stop the fight –neither will thank him for it and it might just make things even worse. “You are not going to England alone Lydia, one of us will go with you.”

“Fuck you Peter,” Lydia's as uncowed as ever. “I don't need you two coddling me, I can damn well take care of myself. And I swear to fucking God Peter, if I find out you're following me I will make your life a living hell.” She glares up at him, seemingly uncaring when his eyes flare and his teeth start showing.

“Lydia. . .”

Jordan stands up from the couch, the urge to do something to diffuse the situation growing.

She crosses her arms. “Peter, this is final. I'm going and you're not going to just 'happen' to end up at the airport ticket in hand.” She turns to Jordan and he knows exactly what that look in her eye means. “Right Jordan?”

The only thing worse than watching their fights is being pulled into one. Times like this are a minefield and he has to tread carefully so he doesn't piss both of them off, but can hopefully stay neutral enough. “Look I get that you're angry Peter, but pushing any more than you are is going to destroy something if you're not careful.” He turns his attention to Lydia, who at the moment seems to think he's taken her side. “And Lydia, I'll admit I'm not exactly happy myself about the idea of you going off to England for a week and a half to see your ex all by yourself. We _are_ allowed to worry about you.”

He doesn't know if he could have worded things better or brought up different points, but he feels like it might be enough of a start to smooth out all the ruffled feathers and actually make this a constructive conversation instead of another shouting match.

And he hopes they both realize how much restraint he's showing in  _not_ handcuffing them both together and throwing them in a cell for a day or two.


	24. Day 24- Making up Afterwards

They fall into a tired heap of limbs on the bed. With a contented sigh Lydia kisses Jordan, for being such a good sport and suffering through that somehow, then Peter, to show him that she really has forgiven him.

Jordan sighs as he shifts under the weight of both of them; she's not worried about smothering him, if he has any trouble breathing he can easily lift the both of them and move them. In response to her kiss Peter leans in and nuzzles under her chin, which is about as much apology as she'll get from him unless he manages to get them all in the mood for sex. “You know Peter if you'd bothered to ask I would have told you the reason Jackson invited me to go to London was to meet his fianceé.” Which is one of the reasons she's dead set on going, she wants to meet the woman who managed to finally catch Jackson.

A breath of laughter from Peter ghosts across her neck. “He's getting married? Stars save us all from whatever unholy terrors they'll make.”

Lydia lets herself actually laugh at that.

“Do I even want to know?” Jordan doesn't sound too put off by the fact he doesn't get the joke; which always makes Lydia feel a little weird, that she and Peter have their own jokes and language that Jordan will never really understand. Then again she knows the same could be said of her and Jordan, they _do_ tend to laugh when telling people how they met –even though a giant freezer full of dead people is Definitely Not Funny.

She props herself up a little so she can look Jordan in the eye. “I don't know, do you find yourself suddenly caring about douchy werewolves who think they're everyone's type?”

Now Jordan's the one laughing. “No not really.”

Leaning down she kisses him again, she smiles as she pulls away a delicious though making itself know. “Hey Peter.”

“Hmmm?” Either he's half-asleep on Jordan's shoulder or his affecting disinterest, regardless he'll probably be paying close attention soon enough.

“I'm thinking you and I should show Jordan just how much we appreciate his patience.” She moves as if to kiss him again, but only brushes her lips against his before moving towards her real target and nibbling on the bend of his jaw.

Which elicits the expected moan from Jordan and she can feel Peter shifting himself into a better position, and from the way Jordan bucks a few moments later she knows exactly what he's doing. “What a wonderful idea Lydia.”

There's no more need for conversation as they get to work.


	25. Day 25- Getting Married

However much they want it there's no real possibility of them all marrying each other. Laying on top of Jordan Lydia sighs, absentmindedly twining her fingers with his own. Alex is asleep in his nearby bassinet and she can hear Peter making dinner in the kitchen with faint musical accompaniment.

They've talked round and round about what they could do: her marrying Peter, her marrying Jordan, Peter and Jordan marrying, 'living in sin' –which so far is winning out. And recently they've been talking about just changing their last names; but then it becomes a discussion of _which_ last name, or even just mashing all their names up together: Hamarish? Paletin? Marpale?, once she'd brought up the possibility of just drawing a new last name out of a hat. It's enough to give Lydia headaches.

With a sigh she tilts her head up so her chin's resting on Jordan's collarbone and she's basically staring up at him. He gives a little frown down at her. “What's bugging you?”

She sighs again and she can hear Peter working quieter to better listen in. “The same old at this point.”

Jordan makes a sound that is both agreement and commiseration. “Maybe we should put it to a group vote?”

A huff escapes her. “What Scott and everyone? They'd just all tell me to marry you, in the hopes that we might eventually drive Peter away because he's a 'bad influence.'”

“Of course I'm a bad influence sweetheart,” Peter says. “You two are just immune, which really, would make you think they'd _want_ you two to stay with me.”

There's a bout of quiet laughter amongst all of them at that before relative silence takes over again. At least until Peter speaks again. “We should just put all the possibilities in a hat and draw and that's that. Let random chance decide.”

“Lazy decision making for the win?” For a moment she buries her face in Jordan's shirt to muffle her laughter. “That's the worst Peter. And I can't believe I'm actually considering it.”

“I'll make you those complicated cookie you like if you agree with me.” Which is very tempting.

“That's bribery Peter,” Jordan sounds so very offended.

Peter snorts. “Like you expect any different from me.”

Which gets another bout of laughter, this one less quiet though. “I don't know I think it would be nice to finally have this done and dealt with in some fashion for the outside world.” They all know what they are to each other and no amount, or lack there, of paperwork will change that. Her fingers move from Jordan's to curl around the key pendant she and Peter bought him, laying over his shirt now that he's home from work. The bits of amber and alexandrite imbedded in the key catch the light and glow warm as she plays with it.

Jordan heaves a completely false put upon sigh. “I see when I've been beat. Fine bring out the hat.”

This time they laugh hard enough to wake Alex.

-

On Monday she, Jordan, and Alex –though she supposes their son doesn't actually  _need_ to be there for his own name change– go over to the courthouse and start the process of changing their last names to Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Steph for letting me kind of rant at you and helping me figure this all out. I didn't think there'd be a chapter harder to write than the Arguing chapter, but this one proved me wrong.


	26. Day 26- Gazing into Each Other’s Eyes

Jordan's half certain all his deputies think he's wicca, though at least it means nobody asks weird questions when he takes full moons off. He pushes all that aside though as he takes a deep breath of fresh forest air.

A few feet away Alex and Laura's argument turns into a scuffle and he rolls his eyes. Striding over he hauls Laura off her older brother. “Save it for the poor defenseless woodland creatures.”

Laura tries to squirm out of his grasp, but the combination of her stature, from her mother, and his strength prevents that. “Paaaapaaa!” She whines.

“He's right sweetheart,” Peter finally joins them, Olwen bouncing excitedly on his shoulders. “You can beat up your brother later.”

Which draws an exasperated sigh from Lydia as she approaches, the other pack kids who decided to join in tonight's run trailing after her. “Really you two? I don't know why I put up with any of it.”

Jordan and Peter share identical looks and Jordan drops Laura, who lands cat like and goes to jump on Lucy, while Peter sets Olwen down, she promptly limpets onto her brother. With matching grins he and Peter stalk over to Lydia and scoop her up. “Because you love us,” Peter says kissing her cheek.

“Admit iiittt,” Jordan sing-songs as he kisses the other.

Around them the kids make sounds of disgust or embarrassment, depending on their age.

Lydia starts laughing as they kiss her all over. “Alright, alright! I give,” she wiggles enticingly. “Now put me down.”

For a moment they don't, he doesn't know why Peter doesn't but Jordan just wants to take this moment in for a few more seconds. The way Peter's eyes are starting to glow the higher the moon rises, the way Lydia's cheeks are flushed, her own hazel eyes sparkling with mirth. He thinks he'd be perfectly happy just staring at them for the rest of the night.

Peter it seems has other ideas, letting Lydia go –Jordan easily takes her full weight, he tips his head back and howls, all of the kids quickly joining in. He doesn't know if Peter planned it that way or not, but as the howl dies down the moon finally rises over the treeline.

And like that the kids are off, leaving Peter to heave a, completely fake, put upon sigh as he starts chasing after them.

Jordan and Lydia share a look. “You gonna run, or do you want me to give you a piggy-back ride?” It varies from run to run with Lydia.

She smiles and loops her arms around his neck. “Well if you're offering. . .”

He finds himself grinning in response as he shifts her onto his back; he feels her grip tighten as he settles into a comfortable ground eating pace, easily catching up to the others.


	27. Day 27- On one of their birthdays

Peter isn't really one for birthdays, at least not his own. He'll celebrate the birthdays of his lovers and children with gusto, if also a little sadness, but he'd rather not remember his own.

So in a away June 10th always manages to catch him by surprise.

He awakes to familiar teeth nibbling on his shoulder and he can't help but smile as he opens his eyes. Looking down he sees Jordan is indeed leaving a line of rapidly healing bite on his shoulder while Lydia is still curled up fast asleep on his other side, his arm wrapped around her. Jordan notices he's up and smiles. “Morning.” He pushes himself up and they're kissing.

Peter feels his lips twitch as they pull apart, “good morning to you too.” He nestles Lydia closer, which has the unfortunate, or fortunate, consequence of waking her up.

She gives a cat-like yawn as she stretches. “Mmmm, what time is it?”

A full grin forms on his face as the hand he has around her slips lower, insinuating itself in her underwear, while his other hand grows claws as it runs down Jordan's back. “Time for a little fun I think.”

Lydia sighs a moan while Jordan's hips stutter and Peter himself can't wait to keep going.

Which is, of course, when the door flies open and excited eight and five year olds crash onto the bed, happily crawling over all three of them. “Happy birthday dad!”

Holding back as much of his sigh as he can Peter scoops up the two wonderful brats, hoping he can distract them enough that Jordan and Lydia can get dressed. “Good morning you two, and thank you.” He says the last with as much gusto as he can muster.

“Daddy, daddy.” He grimaces a little when Laura yanks on some of his hair. “We've got presents for you downstairs.”

Giving as surreptitious a sniff as he can he's relieved to smell nothing burning, or even cooking; looks like they learned their lesson from mother's day. He squeezes them both tightly against him before letting the now decently dressed Lydia and Jordan scoop them up. “Let's let dad have a few moments to get dressed and then he can open his presents okay?” Lydia gives him a comforting smile as she bounces Laura.

The two kids go willingly and for a few moments he's alone.

Rolling over he buries his face in the nearest pillow, breathing in the melange of scents that is the three of them as he tries to fight off the sucker punch of emotion that hits him; refusing to hate his children because they weren't Laura and Derek howling at him to get up so they could have french toast, refuses to attempt to call out for Talia, just refuses to give in.

Closing his eyes he rolls back over, putting each of his family members back in their box.

He doesn't know how much later it is when the bedroom door opens. A fresh layer of wind and hot rocks fills the room. “Peter,” moments later Jordan's kneeling over him. “You should get downstairs.”

With a sigh he finally sits up, laying the briefest of kisses to Jordan's temple. “Alright.”

“You should hurry up, Lydia's making omelets.”

Peter rolls his eyes at Jordan as he pulls on sweatpants. “I'll get down when I get down.”

Jordan laughs as he leaves. “Should we be worried about you finally shouting at kids to get off our lawn this year?”

The pert question manages to banish the last of the memories as Peter tugs on one of Lydia's sleeping shirts, which are really just his shirts that Lydia steals; and moments later he's heading downstairs.


	28. Day 28- Doing Something Silly

Summer is in full swing and at the moment Lydia is more than happy to lie back and relax, letting the bobbing of her floating recliner lull her into a doze. The sounds of the pack kids, and probably half the pack itself by the sound of it, making a general ruckus and having a great time on the lake shore fading into the background.

Letting out a pleased sigh she settles in deeper and enjoys soaking up the sun.

Only to, moments later, be rudely tossed into the water when her float is upended. She comes up sputtering and in a general state of anger; her sunglasses are floating away but that hardly matters in the face of finding out who did such a crime to her. In a way she'd expected it to be Peter because he enjoys that sort of thing, but instead it's Jordan she sees rapidly paddling back towards shore.

“Jordan!” Taking a deep breath she pushes her hair back and starts swimming, easily catching up to him; despite all his strength and speed she's clearly the better swimmer –she's going to chalk it up to dating Jackson for two years.

With a grin she dives down and manages to yank off his swim trunks in a single motion. He looks torn between covering himself or getting his trunks back. “Lydia!”

Her grin returns. “What? Fair's fair.” With that she grips his trunks with her teeth as she makes a break for shore, leaving Jordan to flounder.

As she walks up onto the beach there's applause and cackling from the Stiles, Mason, Danny, and Malia department. Taking the trunks out of her mouth she waves them around. “Come and get them baby!”

“There are children!” He shouts back.

Lydia just laughs and saunters over to Peter at the picnic table. Since he's in trunks too she doesn't worry about getting him wet as she sits on his lap, letting Jordan's trunks fall to the ground next to them. “Hi, Peter.”

His shoulders shake with laughter as he starts pulling her hair back into something better looking than wet hanks. “Hello sweetheart. Are those for me?”

“May-be,” she sing-songs. “It all depends on whether or not you're gonna give them back to Jordan.”

Peter purses his lips in mock-though as he finishes off what feels like a braid of some sort. “He can be quite convincing when he wants to be.”

His arched eyebrow seems unnecessary after the leering tone and she just rolls her eyes. “Really Peter? I will not stoop to that level.”

Another laugh escapes him. “And we could have been so perfect together,” he heaves a sigh. “Scott, you might want to help Jordan out.”

And while the look on Scott's face when _Peter_ suggests he should help someone is priceless, it's ruined by the fact pulls out _another pair of swim trunks_ from a nearby duffel bag.

In a flash she's off Peter and running over to stop him.


	29. Day 29- Doing Something Sweet

Despite everything Peter's still somehow managed not to let memories and various traumas ruin baking cookies.

It's only him and Olwen in the house right now, the perfect time to make a batch of surprise cookies, molasses spice this time. So with the radio tuned to the 90s alt-rock station he rarely admits to listening to, and Olwen happily ensconced in her high chair happily playing with the Cheerios and assorted fruits and veggies in front of her, he gets to work.

When the first batch's cooled he breaks one in half then gives part of a half to Olwen, who takes a very long time in sniffing it before popping it into her mouth. Only to spit it out a few moments later, making disgusted noises, she's at the 'almost but not quite talking' stage.

He gives her a fond sigh. “I'm sure you'll grow to like them eventually.”

As the last batch cools he makes up a batch of mulled cider to explain the scents. While that steeps he packs the cookies away and hides them in his usual spot. They'll turn up in lunches and as treats for the next week or so before they vanish just as suddenly as they appeared.

Jordan's the first to arrive home, about the time he's finishing up the cider. “Smells great in here.” A few moments later he's entered the kitchen and they're giving each other a hello kiss.

“Thanks,” Peter says as Jordan says hello to Olwen. “Just finished a batch of mulled cider.”

Which earns him a grabby motion. “Pretty sure it's freezing out there and I want to be _warm_.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “And yet you're the one who suggested we move back to Beacon Hills Mr. lukewarm blood.”

“Shut up and feed me,” which isn't as much of a threat when the person in question has a wiggly toddler on their hip.

With an affectionate huff Peter gets out mugs, for the two of them and Lydia and the kids who should be home soon, and ladles out the cider.

Jordan's on his third mug and Peter idly wonders if he should cut him off when the others finally come home. Mugs of cider are eagerly accepted as Alex and Laura start chatting about their days. Lydia sidles up to him with a smile and Jordan laughs and the kids roll their eyes at his yelp when her cold fingers touch bare skin. “I am  _not_ a body heater, sweetheart.”

“Uh huh.” She looks thoroughly unimpressed. Her fingers return.

-

The next morning Peter extracts himself from between Lydia and Jordan and heads downstairs. It's easy work making everyone's lunches, even if Laura's still a bit of a picky eater, and each gets a baggie full of cookies. That done he goes back upstairs and wakes his lovers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter tomorrow peeps, who else isn't ready?


	30. Day 30- Doing Something Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we come to the end, I hope you all had as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

Ineffectually Jordan bucks, desperate to move; but Peter has him well and truly pinned and so his action does nothing more than make Lydia moan around him as her mouth slips a little further down his cock.

Which draws a moan of his own from his throat, quickly morphing into a whine when Peter leans down and seems hellbent on leaving the most eye catching hickey on Jordan's neck that he can. Lydia starts pulling up, teeth very light scraping against him, and it's too much and with a groan he's coming.

Peter's implacable grip finally loosens as Lydia gives a wicked grin, her tongue quickly darting out to catch a dribble of cum and Jordan has to whimper because it's like she's trying get him hard again as quickly as possible and it's kind of working but he's not quite sure if he wants it to or not.

Lydia and Peter switch places and when she leans down to kiss him he eagerly responds. Only to break away a few moments later, “fuck!”

The two of them laugh good-naturedly as the finger Peter managed to somehow slip in curls slightly. Jordan still flushes, “you two are going to kill me if you keep this up.”

Her kiss is much softer and sweeter this time. “That's alright, we can bring you back if that happens.”

Another finger joins the first and Jordan squirms and tenses. Peter stops moving his fingers and lightly nibbles on Jordan's hipbone. “Relax dear, otherwise this won't be fun for anyone.”

Taking a few deep breaths he forces himself to relax, Lydia helps one hand running up and down his side, the thumb of the other rubbing soothing circles over the only patch of scales left over, on his chest right below his left collarbone, from last month's minor adventure-discovery. The feel of her skin against scales has his breath catching and barely a second later Peter's making a pleased sound, fingers shifting in a way that wrenches a moan from him.

Lydia gives him another kiss as if in reward before moving to the side of his neck Peter didn't touch and starting her own assault. Peter rips another whine from him when his fingers brush up against his prostate.

Jordan still can't really believe that this is happening, that he agreed to this –not that he's having second thoughts but. . . _Christ._ “Three Peter?” At least this time he's more relaxed, even if feeling three fingers has his squirming again. “Should I. . .oh God”–Jordan's not sure if he wants to know what Peter just did–“. . .be concerned?”

From her current position on his chest Lydia giggles. “”Don't tell anyone,” she says, sotto voce, “but Peter always over-preps. It's kind of adorable how he worries.”

Peter's laughter ghosts over Jordan's skin and he shivers; his cock's already half hard again –and he'd thought refractory periods like that were only possible in the romance novels he'd sneaked from his sister's collection. “I do _not_ worry Lydia, and there is nothing wrong with being cautious.”

He opens his mouth to try and make a snappy reply, but it's apparently beyond him and all that comes out is another moan.

Only to be followed by a strange, needy sigh that Jordan doesn't really want to examine all that much when Peter's fingers leave. But before he can think on _that_ too much Lydia's scraping her teeth against that patch of scales, which has him arching off the bed and shouting, and he's actually surprised he didn't come.

Though that's quickly rectified when Peter starts sinking in. He'd apologize for splattering them both if he had the presence of mind to do so at the moment. Everything's wrapped in a pleasurable haze he most definitely has never experienced before, making everything warm around the edges. And Jordan feels himself going limp as Peter bottoms out.

Claws dig into his hips, which draws a strange noise from him, and Peter growls. “Stars.”

Teeth on his chest remind him that Lydia's there too. “Don't leave me hanging Peter.”

Jordan nearly asks when Lydia means by that, but then he gets his answer when Peter starts describing everything as he begins to move. “He's tighter than you are sweetheart, though –grunt– that's understandable. . .”

**Author's Note:**

> Love this pairing? Have a Tumblr (or even if you don't)? Come join your fellow shippers at [We Conquer Death](http://weconquerdeath.tumblr.com/)!


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